The DreamWalker
by ElspethElf
Summary: The master of dreams can only communicate with mortals in dreams - and Gainel fully knows how to use it. Gainel and Daine, with slight DN undertone. Standalone


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The DreamWalker**

**By ElspethElf

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Gainel could grant any fantasy, any furtive dream and whimsical desire of mortals. In the black of the night when he touched upon their fevered sleep, he saw clear and deep into their veiled yearnings. And he granted them their dreams, for he saw also the futility of them ever realising in the conscious world. He had lost count of the many empty shells of aspiration; those long delayed but always expected something mortals lived for in the minute span of their lives. And so he granted them their wishes, if only to give the ghost of a taste for the wistful lives they sought after.

When the barren wife of Lord Chester cried for a child in her sleep, he sent an infant glowing with warmth into her dreamarms. When the grieving miller mourned over his late wife, Gainel touched him with her presence and comfort. When many a young lady sighed over her oblivious love, he gave them reassurance played in the rippling shades of a court dream. And it was not just mental desires he granted, but materialistic hunger – and the hard, animalistic needs.

He expected them. The licking flames of hot lust: sensual, lurid and perverted as each individual liked it. Gainel granted them all; the excitement, the thrill – they meant nothing to him. He took no interest in the pleasures he brought to sleepers, nor did he pay any particular attention to them. He was simply a watcher of the night. A DreamWalker.

Until she came to the Realm of the Gods. Half human, half goddess, her sleep called to him clearer and stronger than any other mortal. On the first night of her arrival, her mind screamed so loudly of fear and uncertainty he was afraid he had sent his creatures of nightmare by mistake. When he found her mind, when he took it beneath the shadows of his cloak he felt the beginning of something stir inside himself. Fascination, it could be called. Curiosity certainly. Night after night he returned to her sleep, making sure her dreams were sweet and undisturbed. For the first time he delved deep into her mind with an interest he thought impossible to spare for mortals, and he saw straight into her desire, so shrouded with uncertainty he doubted if she knew of it herself.

And instead of sending that desire to her, Gainel went in his place.

He found her dreamself atop a bed, dragging a brush through her thick tumble of smoky curls. Her eyes seemed distant, dreamy even, yet her brows were drawn in a frown of doubt and agitation. Silently he reached to her and touched the dark cloud of tumult that hung in her mind.

_How can you say that? Tortall is my home!_

Her voice rang with dismay and with such hurt that Gainel repressed the urge to send soothing to her. Instead he took on the shape he knew she sought after more than anything else, and approached.

He did not mean to be the watcher tonight.

Daine looked up at the sound of footsteps, her eyes glinting. 'Good, you're here. I've a mind to have a word with you.' She was angry, stubborn, her eyes hard and jaws set like stone. She sidled along the bed with a pointed glance at the empty space she made beside her.

He smiled slowly, and then moved forwards to sit beside the girl. He saw her shiver, and in the next instant a fire burst into life from a hearth that appeared out of nowhere. Daine ignored the apparition.

'I know I got distracted back then, with the image in the mirror and all,' she said crossly. 'But you're not getting off so easy! I don't care what you have to say, but you're _not_ going to make me stay behind!' She glared at him, daring him to refuse. Despite the fire she was still shivering, though it was clear now it was not from the cold. When she heard no reply, she demanded crossly, 'well?'

Gainel smiled again. He watched her beside him, amused at his leisurely enjoyment of the moment. His eyes caressed every inch of her: the hair that fell across her eyes, her chest rising up and down to her breathing, her mind's fire.

'Of course Magelet,' he whispered.

Should he feel guilty? All it took was a simple search through her unconscious mind to see the exact tone of his voice, the soft caress in the pronunciation of the name. Gainel saw in her memory that gentle light she liked to see in his dark eyes, and he mirrored that expression. He found the gestures that caused her heart to pound louder, and used it now. All for her.

Daine's expression changed too, when she saw something stirring behind his eyes. At first she was suspicious, contemplating his sincerity, and then confusion as she puzzled over the queer look on his face.

'Are...are you all right?' She asked, hesitant.

Gainel smiled, knowing the gesture made her breath quicken. He reached forwards, at first fingers barely brushing against her cheek that was warm and smooth even in dreams. Then his hand ran along her face, her neck, exploiting that smoothness. He felt her hair, those soft silky curls that twisted around his fingers.

There was nothing wrong in that. Gainel was just brushing a lock of hair away from her face. He had seen him do this many times before, in her memory. And he knew she liked it, that simple gesture of love and affection, even though she still does not know of its meaning.

Gently but firmly, Gainel brought her face closer. In that second he saw her eyes burn with excitement. _This is what I can do to mortals_, he thought. _This is the pleasure I can choose to give or take away._ Her need and expectation were strong now, Gainel could feel it grow her mind, and he kissed her on her lips. Mortal lips: soft, warm and red with the rushing of blood underneath.

Daine made a light noise of surprise, and then she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. _Numair_, her mind's voice rang loud and clear.

_I'm here, sweetling_, Gainel thought and his arms folded around the girl. Should he feel guilty? Breaking the law of dreams to interfere for personal reasons. Should he be blamed for taking an interest in a mere mortal – _half _mortal?

Of course not. He was the God of Dreams, the master. It was his laws he was bending, his own rules he chose to break. And he knew that only good would come out of his tampering. Sooner or later, she would see the significance of those dreams. Sooner or later, she would realise them.

'Numair?' Daine held his face in her hands, peering at him anxiously. 'What is it?'

He didn't say anything. He knew what she wanted, could see it clearly imprinted in her heart. He pressed his lips against hers once more, feeling her body subdued against his. Hearing a sigh from deep within her chest, he wrapped warm darkness around them both as they sank onto the bed.

Yes, the rules were his to change.


End file.
